Their First Year
by knottedblonde
Summary: He didn't have anything to say back to her, thankful that she couldn't see his blush in the dark. He felt her reach out for him, bare fingers brushing against the crook of his elbow and reaching down to squeeze his hand in the dark. "Well... Night, Marlin." Claire/Jill and Marlin's first year in HMDS Cute. Last chapter is rated M.
1. Black

He had seen her before, of that he was sure.

He couldn't quite place her. He knew he had seen her around the village- just a few days ago she had been buying seeds from Vesta. Yet something in her face reminded him of someone.

She had stumbled into the house in the late afternoon, her blonde hair whirring around her from the wind outside. She hadn't noticed him until she had taken a few tentative steps into the living room. "Oh." Her eyes widened at him, giving him no choice but to notice how deeply blue they were; the kind of blue that made him feel as if he was drowning in Goddess Pond, a blue so deep he could practically feel his lungs straining against his chest in the way they hadn't done since last rainfall. She stood before him, silence stretching before them like a horizon.

"...Hey." He finally choked out, air filling his lungs so suddenly despite him not being aware he was holding his breath. She nodded at him, her captivating eyes narrowing as she looked at him.

He had never been looked at this way by a woman; never before had he felt his person being analyzed down to the smallest detail. He became very aware of the fact that he had not bothered to comb his hair that morning, awkwardly cleared his throat, and moved to block her passage to the stairs. "Celia is upstairs sleeping." She raised her eyebrows at him, her lower lip jutting out slightly. "Vesta's looking after her right now. If you want to meet with either of them it's probably best to come another time..."

She frowned. "Oh... Sorry. I just wanted to ask Vesta a question about the turnip seeds she sold me."

He squinted down at her. That's how he recognized her- she looked rather like the old farmer who died a few seasons ago on that run-down ranch. Vaguely, he could see the resemblance in her chin. "Well, I know a few things about seeds. Maybe I could help?"

She looked almost hesitant to ask him, her cheeks going red. "I um, just wanted to know if they were perennials. Or whatever the term is. Do they grow back?"

Her cheeks were blushing a ridiculous red, and it occurred to him that she didn't have slightest idea what she was doing when it came to farming. He couldn't stop himself from chuckling smugly. "Nope. Cucumbers and strawberries do though."

"Oh. So I guess it's kind of a waste of time buying turnips, then?"

He shrugged. "Not necessarily. You have to buy a lot of them to really turn a good profit though."

She smiled at him, a crooked smile that could have been taken directly off the face of her father. "Ah, yeah I guess that's true. Sorry for all the questions, um-?"

"Marlin."

"Claire." She sent him another crooked smile, crossing her arms as she did it. "I'm kinda new to all this farm stuff. My mom and dad split so I wasn't really raised here."He didn't have anything to say to her, and settled to watch her instead. Vaguely, he could see remnants of the face he had seen in old news paper photographs, something about her cheek bones reminding him of an older woman in the city. She was staring at the wall opposite him, her long hair hanging like a curtain between them. "Mom used to say all there was to do in Forget-Me-Not Valley was milk cows, go swimming, and eat."

He caught himself chuckling. "To be fair we do eat a lot here."

She laughed, a loud tinkling laugh that send a strange shiver down his spine. "Oh yeah? Well if you're such an expert, what's your favourite food?"

It was a question he got asked a lot, yet the answer was not readily available to his lips. He was saved by Vesta bounding down the stairs.

"Oh, Claire! You're here." Vesta beamed, gently shoving him out of the way. Sending a smirk towards him, she let out a booming chuckle. "You and Marlin together? That's unexpected. What were you two talking about?"

He couldn't fail to miss the crimson rushing to Claire's cheeks, nor could he stop it from his own. "It's nothing Vesta... Not a big deal. How is Celia feeling?"

"It's nothing really." She boomed, beginning her trek to the kitchen. "She's just worn out. She'll probably wake up soon."

"Speaking of worn out, I'd better get going." Claire had moved towards the door, the crimson hardly faded from her cheeks. She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Thanks for all the help, Marlin."

He watched her out the door, his mind already far away from their encounter.

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	2. Purple

Art credit for the cover goes here! wiki/Marlin_(AWL)

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He was lucky, he supposed. In light of his illness, he had developed a sort of sixth sense when it came to the weather- and given his current occupation, this was hardly a bad thing. The familiar ache in his lungs had already been picking at him for a few days, leaving his breathing shaky and his lungs rattling with an unknown fluid. He had awoken early that morning to a coughing fit, and hardly surprised Vesta when he sauntered into the kitchen and successfully predicted the rain that arrived less than 6 minutes after his declaration.

The rain had been puttering against the shop ceiling for a few hours now, leaving him completely alone as he pursued the disorganized boxes of yet to be planted product. He hated these rainy days, hated how they could stop him in his tracks; it felt as if whenever the weather turned muggy someone had grabbed the reins from him and declared him an unfit driver of his own life. He caught himself cursing under his breath as the door to the shop creaked open, a quick glance over his shoulder revealing a sopping wet Claire dripping against the front mat.

"Hi, Marlin." She said, smiling crookedly through the wet curtain of hair plastered to her face. "

Er, hello." He watched for a moment as she wrung her hair out, leaving a rather large puddle of water at her feet. "You here to buy something? Because I think Vesta's out working in the field." He paused, watching her flip her hair off her shoulders, twisting it into a wet and matted knot on the top of her head. "If you want to shop, it might be best to come back another time."

"I'm actually just on my way to the mine." She muttered, rubbing the remnants of rain off her bare arms. "Figured I'd stop by just to warm up a bit." He felt his collar heat up slightly as she absently plucked her sopping shirt away from her chest, her hands un-tucking it from her overalls to more efficiently wring it out, a process which exposed the toned flesh of her stomach that he had never seen before. "I'm actually a little surprised that you guys are even open, don't you usually work the fields?"

He didn't bother questioning why she knew his schedule and turned back to his boxes, clearing his throat. "Er, yeah. You probably heard already, but I got really sick a while ago. Ever since then the rain has always kind of bothered me. It's just easier on everybody if I stay inside." He glanced over his shoulder. He had been expecting her to coddle him, or to express sympathy of some sort like every body else, but she simply remained silent and nodded, making her way to his side. For something to do, he watched a dribble of water slide down her neck and disappear beneath the line of her shirt.

He lifted his gaze as the door creaked open, Celia shouting her hello to Claire as she bustled about the store, her sopping dress clinging to the womanly curves he had only ever dreamt of. Leaning enticingly over a crate, he watched as she glanced around the shelves, her teeth worrying her lower lip.

"What are you looking for?" He could hear his voice crack slightly, his cheeks turning crimson as Claire glanced at him, smirking.

"Just some seeds Vesta wanted me to get... Let's see... One, two, three..." It didn't take long before her arms were full. Dodging around Claire, he took a few bags from her arms.

"Come on now, you can't hold all these. Let me help you."

He watched her avoid his gaze. "No Marlin, I don't want you to get sick out in the rain... But I can't ask Claire..." Claire had appeared at his side and promptly began grabbing bags of her own accord.

"It's okay Celia, I can help."

"No, no. You're a customer. I'm sure I can just ask Vesta for help." Still firmly avoiding his gaze, Celia pushed past them and out the door with a backward glance.

He could feel his cheeks blazing as he threw the bags back into the crate, his impatience threatening to boil over. He had never felt more useless or emasculated in his life, a feeling that didn't lessen as Claire sighed beside him, taking care to place her bags much more carefully than he had. "It's like they think I can't do anything anymore." He burst out, his hands reaching of their own accord to grip the edge of the crate, his head dropping in frustration.

Claire was silent for a moment, and he could tell she was watching the tensed muscles in his arms and shoulders. "Don't be silly." She said at last. "You're pretty far from useless."

He couldn't stop the hiss of breath that escaped through his teeth, nor his snarling retort. "You barely know me, Claire."

He had been expecting a snarling response and was caught off guard by the sudden pressure on her gloved hand against his, the wet fabric seeming to numb the boiling anger inside him. "Can you ease up on yourself for five seconds? It'd make it a lot more bearable to be around you."

She had a point. "You're right, I guess."

Her wet hand squeezed his. "Of course I am. You only just got better a while ago, right? It makes sense that they're still a bit worried. Just try to focus on being a little more positive, and it'll rub off on them too."

Celia burst into the shop again, her sudden appearance startling Claire into releasing his hand. Muttering something about only needing one bag of seeds, she dove between them and bustled out of the shop before either of them could say another word to her. Her appearance had left a certain amount of awkward silence between them.

"So... Thanks." He coughed, watching as she reached up to the knot on her head, her hair falling down once again into a sodden mess upon her shoulders.

"Let's just call it even." She sent a crooked smile to his quizzical look. "You gave me advice about turnips, remember? Saved me a lot of time earlier this season." She didn't wait for him to reply, already half way out the door. "See you around, Marlin."

He wiped his still wet hand on his jeans as the door shut behind her, unable to shake the cool presence of her palm on his even hours later.


	3. Blue

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It must have been her first time inside a bar.

Despite her being from the city, he could tell this was new and un-chartered territory for her; the way her nose wrinkled at the new found scent of alcohol, the way her cheeks turned crimson as Kassey and Patrick brushed by her a little too closely. He doubted she had ever had a drink, and how could she? She was barely older than legal age.

More out of sympathy than actual interest, he raised a hand in welcome to her, waving perhaps a little more sloppily than he would have sober. "Hey, Claire."

A low swooping sensation dropped in his belly (a sensation that had begun to make itself present more often when she was around) as she turned her sapphire eyes to him, her lips curving into a crooked and relieved smile. He couldn't stop himself from admiring her eyes- he had often found himself thinking of them absentmindedly during his work in the fields, the cool morning air clinging to his neck and reminding him of her sodden hand pressed against his... He caught himself staring, and hastily cleared his throat. "...How about a drink?"

"Sure." She settled into the stool beside him, her blonde hair swishing forward as she rested her elbows on the table. "Long day?" He could tell she was taking in his appearance; his ebony locks ruffled from the amount of times he had run his hands through it in frustration, the glassy look of his eyes and the smell of alcohol on his breath.

He coughed. "A little. But you know how it is around harvest. All our corn just bloomed and it's been a nightmare." He waved Griffin down, ignoring the crooked smirk she sent him. "Bartender, get this lovely lady a drink on me." He felt his cheeks go crimson at the slip of his drunken tongue, the sound of her tinkling laugh doing nothing to help him.

"Lovely, huh?" She giggled, her eyebrows shooting up into her hair. "You must be drunk." He stared resolutely into the bottom of his empty glass.

Griffin broke the silence between them, placing a glass in front of her. "Here ya go. Nothing for you, Marlin?"

He watched her for a moment as she inhaled the sickly sweet scent of the drink, its fumes alone sending a sudden flush to her cheeks. The low swooping sensation returned to his stomach, his thoughts beginning to trail off to the almost-memories of past drunken nights in the city... He stopped his mind from wandering, these thoughts a sure indication that he had drank his fill, and abruptly turned back to Griffin. "No, thanks. I think I've had enough tonight."

"Alright." There was a brief pause in which both men turned to Claire, who was still inhaling the aroma of the cup, her cheeks still flushed pleasantly. "Well Claire? You gonna drink? It's on Marlin." Griffin's eyes narrowed mischievously as he reached for Marlin's empty glass, leaving him with no option but to look over, cheeks still red, at her.

"Oh, um..." He could see her bite the inside of her cheek, her brows furrowing. "I don't know. I've never really drank anything with alcohol before."

Griffin let out a hearty chuckle. "Well it's a good thing you're with Marlin here, he's an expert." He felt his cheeks flare up again at the bartender's snide comment, but nevertheless smiled at Claire, his shoulders rolling into a casual shrug.

"Heh. It's not that bad, I promise."

She sent him another crooked smile, her fingers reaching up to brush the hair off her shoulder. "Okay... Here goes."

He had been expecting her to take a tiny sip, the kind that Celia always took on the rare occasion she had been forced to join him at the pub. He hadn't been expecting her to throw her head back and gulp the beverage down, a small amount of the honey coloured beverage dripping down her chin and onto the crisp white of her tee shirt. She slammed the drink against the counter, her cheeks already gaining crimson splotches. He found his own surprise reflected on Griffin's face, the look of shock alone making him chuckle. "Wow, you sure chugged that back."

Already the drink was hitting her, he could see it in the glassiness that had formed over her usually clear eyes. "Oooh, I want more!" She prodded the glass forward.

Griffin chuckled, taking the glass from her. "You want more, eh? That okay with you, Marlin?"

He shrugged. "She can have all she wants."

She hummed slightly as she began to drink, a comfortable silence falling between them. He supposed they had developed a certain amount of understanding between them- the few times they had stopped to talk she had always been willing to listen to his whining, and even more willing to put him in his place. But that was what he liked most about her. Where other women would coddle him and tell him what he wanted, she would tell him what he needed to hear.

He caught himself studying her face, something he had never bother to do until this moment, having gotten his fill of her features with a simple glance at her eyes. Claire wasn't like the other girls in the village, who's appearances all looked purposeful and in some cases overdone; Claire was in the simplest sense just that: Claire. He was rather fond of the way her bangs ran crookedly across her forehead (a sure testament to the fact that she had been too stubborn to pay for a proper haircut and had resigned to do it herself) or the slight swollen features of her cheeks from having bitten them raw when in thought.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts, watching as she slammed another glass against the counter. He could hardly count how many she had had now, the glassy look in her eyes having been replaced by a sleeping grin. She was looking at him, analyzing him the way she had done when they first met, once again biting the inside of her cheek. He turned back to Griffin, entirely too aware of the hotness around the collar of his shirt. "You know Griffin, I love your bar." He could feel himself at the beginning of a drunken ramble, but could hardly stop himself and return to Claire's intense gaze. "When I was living in the city, I went to a lot of bars... But it just wasn't the same. They were just all kind of stuffy, and I found myself drinking with strangers mostly... But this place is different, it's a place where everybody knows your name. Those city bars were just filled with trend chasers."

Griffin's smile across the bar was a bit too understanding. "Thanks for the kind words, Marlin. But it looks like you put Claire to sleep."

He glanced at her, her head resting low on her arms, her hair splayed widely out across the sticky remnants of her drinks. He could see her hips beginning to slide off the barstool and stood to brace himself behind her. "I guess I did run on a bit there."With a slight tap, her bottom came to a stop against his hips, the swooping in his belly suddenly increasing by a ten fold.

"She must have been worn out. Think you can carry her home? A bar stool is no place to spend the night."

"Sure." Prodding her in the side, he repressed a smirk as her blonde head snapped awake. "Time to go home, Claire." She looked round at him blearily, the blotchiness of her face still present. She didn't say anything to him, but rather stared up at him unblinkingly as he placed her arm around his shoulder. "Upsy-daisy..." Clumsily sliding off the stool she crashed against his side.

"You sure you can carry her all the way there?" Griffin asked from behind the bar.

"Yeah, I've got her. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

No sooner had the door shut behind them before Claire looked up at him, her lips pouting and eyes glassy, the warm summer air bringing even more of a blush to her cheeks. "I think I drank too much."

"I'll say you have. I don't know what Griffin was thinking, giving you that much on your first go. There's no way you could have handled it."

She rocked against him suddenly, her balance wavering as she pushed away from him, unsteady on her feet. "You don't always have to protect everyone from everything, you know." The words were slurred but she held his gaze confidently, her feet barely managing to keep her upright.

He suppressed an amused grin, watching as she clumsily rested herself against the Inn's fence. "I'm not trying to protect you. I'm just trying to get you home before the wild dogs get you." He reached for her, prepared to hoist her over his shoulder and carry her to her farm if he had to, when she grabbed his shoulders suddenly, the sudden touch sending what felt like lightening through his veins. If her touch on his hand had kept his mind preoccupied for weeks he could hardly imagine what this one would do; he could practically feel the heat radiating off her face as she spoke to him, the smell of alcohol filling up the small gap between them, her grip on his shoulder both intense and soothing.

"I know you, Marlin." She sent him almost a dirty look, her grip on his shoulders becoming almost painful. "And I've seen the way you are around the people you like, especially Celia. You think that having whatever sickness you have makes you weak... so you spend all your time trying to protect others so just for once you can feel in control and masculine..."

He glared at her, feeling his cheeks burn. "This isn't about playing out some sick fantasy I have, Claire. I told Griffin I'd get you home, and I plan on following through with that." He could feel himself snarling at her, his anger threatening to boil over any second. She stared up at him, a small smirk playing around her lips after having gotten such a rise out of him.

"All I'm saying is that I don't need you the way she does. Especially not to get home." She roughly released his shoulders from her grasp and began to clumsily walk away from him.

He sighed angrily, torn. He was very tempted to leave her alone in the streets, drunk out of her mind and surely unable to find her way home, and yet the better part of him (or at least, the chivalrous part) knew that she was well in view from Rock's bedroom window. And while he had high morals in regards to the dignity of drunk women, Rock certainly did not. He resigned to follow her attempts to stumble home, watching from a distance as she struggled to stay upright along the uneven cobbled road."Need my help yet?" He called as she bumped against a flower box, her soft curse barely reaching his ears in the silent night.

"No!" She hollered, not bothering to glance back at him over her shoulder.

"What about now?" He chuckled despite himself, watching her hip collide with a lamppost.

"No." She turned to snarl at him, the movement all to quick for her weakened reflexes and sending her crashing to the ground. He walked over to where she laid sprawled, tears leaking from her drunken eyes.

"I think you do." He said plainly, not waiting for her response as he lifted her to her feet. Placing her one arm around his shoulders and his arm rather hesitantly around her waist, he resigned to half-walk, half-drag her to her house, all the while firmly ignoring her sniffling and insistence on independence. She hiccupped at him as he reached her front door, her gloved fist gripping the wrinkled fabric of his shirt. Extracting her from around his shoulders, he took care depositing her against the wooden siding of her home. "Can you unlock the door, Claire?" He could feel the patience ebbing away in his voice, the alcohol slowly leaving his system as he watched her pull a brass key from her pocket. "You got that?" He asked, watching as she struggled to fit the key in the lock, her drunken hands shaking.

She replied with a sleepy, half hearted giggle. "Jesus Christ, Claire." He chuckled, taking the key from her hands. "Are you gonna be okay?"

She didn't answer, but rather giggled again as he unlocked the door, throwing her head back in laughter until she bumped it against the wall. She looked at him, her eyes alive with the kind of delight he had never seen in them while sober. "You think I'm lovely." She snorted at him.

He felt his cheeks flare up once again, and resigned to the fact that he was going to have to help her into bed. "Get inside." He commanded, his hands reaching of their own accord to the small of her back to guide her, and act that once again sent lighting through his body.

She wobbled uneasily to her table, the legs creaking as she sat upon it, her glassy eyes staring at him expectantly. He sighed. "That's not the bed, Claire. You need to go to bed."

Once again she giggled at him. "Not yet Marlin. First I have to get undressed."

The words send blood rushing to his face, his collar suddenly sweltering. "Can't you just, you know..." She giggled at his stuttering, her legs beginning to sway playfully back and forth. He cleared he throat gruffly. "I mean, do you really have to?"

She smirked at him, the blotchiness of her cheeks beginning to damped her appearance. "Oh don't tell me Marlin. You've never undressed a girl before? She let out a slurred giggle at the flustered look on his face. "I'll bet you haven't."

He sputtered at her, so much blood flooding his cheeks that scarcely any was going elsewhere. He had, in fact, never undressed a woman- he liked to talk big to his buddies at the bar, but when it came down to it... She was still smirking at him, the look on her face both infuriating and inviting.

"I bet you're too scared to."

"I'm not scared." He wasn't aware of consciously making the decision until he spat the words at her, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration causing him to kick the door shut behind him. His exasperation seemed to only egg her on further, a high pitch giggle escaping her lips. His confidence in the matter quickly vanished as he came to a stop in front of her, his cheeks still blotched. She leant back on her hands, her head lolling onto her shoulder as she watched him like a wild cat.

"Boots first." She smirked quietly, her eyes becoming half lidded as her shoe-clad toes reached up to prod his thigh. Glaring at her, he lowered himself onto one knee, taking her right foot in his laughed again, staring lazily down at him as he began picking at the laces. He could hear a content sigh escape her lips, her toes wiggling against his grip. "

It looks like you're proposing to me."

He could feel his cheeks go off again, making him yank the laces through his fingers a little harder than he intended to. "Trust me, I'm definitely not."

She snorted. "Well certainly not to me, that's for sure."

He didn't bother to ask her what that meant, knowing full well that she was too drunk to explain. Yanking the boot roughly off her foot, her tiny toes emerged and wiggled at him through sock clad feet. "Other side." She commanded, her left leg swinging up so quickly it nearly knocked him in the chin. "I can't believe you think I'm lovely." She snorted.

"Not so much anymore." He snarled, his response causing her to smirk, yet thankfully remain silent. He picked at a difficult knot she had in her laces, glancing up at her as he did so.

She was looking at him in the most peculiar way. She was no longer smirking at him the way she usually did when she teased- instead her lips were pouted into a small smile, the blush in her cheeks suddenly seeming like so much more than a drunken blotch. She held his gaze, her chest gently rising and falling as a tiny sigh breezed past her lips as she began to shake her head. "Oh, Marlin."

He dropped his gaze immediately back to her boot, his cheeks blazing for what felt like the millionth time that evening. Something in her tone struck his curiosity; the sighing, the almost exasperated nature of her tone... She had been spending an awful lot of time at the farm lately. It seemed as if she was always popping in on her way to the mine; and just last week, hadn't Vesta said that bottle of wine on the counter was a gift from Claire? Granted, he had assumed it was a gift for all of them, but Vesta and Celia didn't drink... He had never really given it a second thought before. He had always assumed Claire to be a thoroughly platonic presence, and yet suddenly... She had mentioned Celia earlier that night, was she perhaps... Jealous?... Someone platonic couldn't send fire through his veins she did, and with just the smallest touch...

He slid her boot off her foot, feeling almost light-headed with the number of thoughts buzzing around his head. He rose from his knees, becoming very aware as he did so of her thighs barely grazing his hips. She lifted her head from her shoulder, her eyebrows contracting, no doubt at the intensity of his expression.

"Marlin?"

"Gloves." His voice sounded as if was a million miles away, all his senses devoted to his fingers as they crept across the table and grasped her wrist, dragging her forward and settling their hands between them, his fingers tugging at the fabric. She watched him work, her drunken eyes flickering between his face and his hands.

"Are you okay, Marlin?" Her naked hands took his, her calluses brushing against his in an act so tender it made him look at her. He could see himself reflected in her glassy eyes: barely sober, his hair wild and cheeks blazing, his mind racing rapidly between thoughts. He could feel the heat radiating off their bodies, so close yet not quite touching. He let out a straggled breath, trying to focus.

"I think I need to go home." He hadn't been aware of holding his breath, yet suddenly his lungs we aching as he pulled his hands out of her grasp and into the safety of his pockets. "Are you good to get into bed by yourself?" He didn't listen for her answer. Abruptly turning on his heel, he stalked out the door, his thoughts still spinning rapidly about his head.


	4. Fireworks Festival

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He wasn't proud of the way he had treated her after the Blue Bar incident, yet it was felt as if he could no longer trust himself around her- he was terrified of the feelings she had aroused in him that evening, terrified of what it meant.

She had stopped coming to visit him at the farm; her first few attempts at talking to him after had been met with a cold shoulder and a reluctant acceptance of her thank you present (the bottle of wine still sat unopened on his dresser; it was a cruel reminder of what alcohol had almost done to his judgment.) And yet he couldn't stop himself from glancing up at her as she walked by on her way to the mine, watching as she turned a shade of pink and determinedly avoided his gaze.

He didn't know why exactly he felt the need to avoid her. He tried to convince himself that he was getting too close to her, too fast; he wasn't particularly talented when it came to maintaining friendships, and it was probably easier on both of them if she got out now before she got hurt. A small part of him knew the truth: she had made him feel things that night that he hadn't felt for anyone other than Celia- and maybe, just maybe, that scared him.

He should have known she would come to see the fireworks. A part of him felt like turning back and heading home, yet another part kept him rooted to the bench he sat on, watching her. She was barefoot and un-gloved (he brushed off the memory of taking off her boots, blushing) and staring out at the waves, her blonde hair tied up once again into a knot on her head. She had abandoned her usual overalls and opted for shorts and a t-shirt, the sun setting behind her highlighting the feminine shape she usually kept hidden (a fact that made his cheeks go crimson at the thought.) She must have felt his gaze on her, and glanced back at him suddenly. He felt himself go even redder as she began to walk towards him.

"Hey." The corners of her mouth turned up as she stopped in front of him, the hand holding her boots bumping them gently against her bare thigh.

"Hi." He couldn't think of much to say, his hands suddenly very sweaty. "You, uh, here to watch the fireworks?"

It was a stupid question but she didn't acknowledge it, her eyes fixed on a point about three inches above his head. "... Do you want to watch them together?"

He blushed again, and shrugged. "Ah... Okay."

He had been expecting her to lead him down to shore, and was surprised when she sat down beside him. The first firework fired above them, bathing the beach in magenta sparkles. His arms felt like lead on either side of him- he had never watched the fireworks with a girl before, and given the fact that he was now watching them with Claire, the very girl he was trying to avoid...

"Hey." The beach was bathed in green light as Claire spoke, her eyes fixed on his face. "I just wanted to apologize. For what happened, before.."

"Ah." His collar felt very hot.

"I don't really remember a lot of what happened, but there are a few things I said... I don't know. I'm sorry if I made things weird. I was really drunk, if it helps." Her words seemed to sooth a nervousness in his stomach that he didn't know was there, and he caught himself half smiling as he watched another firework go off, this time flashing blue.

"It's okay." He said at last, coughing slightly. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Claire turned back to the fireworks, a small smile playing around her lips.

It felt as if the show was over too soon, leaving them sitting in the darkness and watching as other couples filed out of the beach. He coughed slightly. "Do you, uh, want me to walk to you home?"

"Halfway?" She stood beside him, her boots still in her hand.

"Sure." He shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked, listening as her boots clunked together with each step she took. He still had the sense that there was something she wanted to say, her silence unnerving him in the almost pitch black darkness.

"Marlin?" Her voice rang out suddenly. He could feel her gaze on him but could barely see her, having not quite reaching the light of the lamp posts yet. "We're friends, right?" She had stopped walking as they reached the fork in the path leaving him to clumsily bump against her, his hips colliding with the fullness of her rump. The act sent blood rushing to his cheeks as she yelped in surprised, her body rocking against his for a moment as he struggled in the darkness to steady to her.

"Yeah. Uh, I mean, I guess." His voice cracked in the darkness and he felt her chuckle against his chest, struggling to find her footing in the dark. Freeing herself, he heard her tinkling laugh for what felt like the first time in weeks, his hand releasing her arm.

"Just checking. I never really know where I stand with you." He didn't have anything to say back to her, thankful that she couldn't see his blush in the dark. He felt her reach out for him, bare fingers brushing against the crook of his elbow and reaching down to squeeze his hand in the dark. "Well... Night, Marlin."

He could hear the sound of her boots banging together as she walked away, leaving him alone in the dark.


	5. Yellow

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It's raining out there so stay inside...

... being out in the rain is bad for your health.

Be sure to stay warm and dry, Doctor's orders...

He didn't know exactly what made him snap- granted, he was always short tempered in the rain. The muggy atmosphere made the fluid in his lungs rattle against his chest, his breathing perhaps a bit more laboured than it normally would have been. Yet this was his own problem to bear; he didn't need their constant reminders of how sickly he was, as if he could forget. He was almost 25, goddamnit. He wasn't some child who needed to coddled.

"Can you guys cut it out?" He had interrupted Vesta and Celia in the middle of their usual rant when it rained- as if he needed them to tell him how dangerous it was for him to work out there.

Vesta barely glanced at him as she loaded her arms with bags of seeds. "All we're saying is be sure to bundle up, even if you're not outside you don't want to catch a chill."

"I know, I know. I'm not some stupid kid that needs to be coddled." He could feel his temper beginning to get away from him.

"Regardless," Celia picked up where Vesta left off. "You don't want to catch a cold-"

"Can you both shut up for five seconds?" He snapped, his icy tone instantly silencing them. "I don't need reminding, do you think I'm too stupid to know by now?"

The shop bell rang through the stunned silence that followed, none of them bothering to greet Claire as she shut the door of the shop."It's really coming down out there." She glanced at all of them, the smile quickly falling from her lips as she saw the angry look on his face. He could feel his cheeks burning, an angry sigh escaping his lips.

"I can't be around you two right now. I just... I need to get out of here." Firmly avoiding the shocked look on Celia face, he set his pace towards the door. Claire moved towards him, her gloved hands catching him about the elbows.

"Marlin, what's going on?"

He couldn't stand to have her touch him, couldn't stand to allow himself to be calmed down from the storm raging inside him. He roughly shook her off him, knocking her slightly into the wall. "Out of my way."

No sooner had he slammed the door behind him than he regretted his decision to leave. Claire had been right to say it was coming down; the rain had plastered his shirt against his flesh in a matter of seconds, his hair beginning to splatter against his face. He allowed his feet to guide him in the storm, his thoughts raging wildly against his skull as he watched the autumn leaves being whipped around by the rain. He hated the way they treated him, the way everyone treated him. He wasn't the frail, pathetic kid he had been three years ago; he was walking and working again, no longer the useless bag of flesh the disease had reduced him to be.

Vaguely, he realized he had arrived at the spring. If he was going to allow himself to indulge in his pessimistic side... Maybe they had a point. Although he was better, he had never fully recovered... The fluid in his lungs, for example... How easily he got sick, these days... And of course, the fact that he still couldn't run... He nudged a rock with the end of his shoe, watching as it fell deep in the water.

"Marlin!" He jumped at the sound of his name, glancing over his shoulder. Where he had expected to see Celia or Vesta he found Claire. "Marlin." She repeated, moving to stand beside him. He stared blankly into the spring, avoiding her gaze.

"What do you want?"

The words came out harsher than he intended; he could see her bite the inside of her cheek, her eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know... you just kind of ran off back there. I was worried."

He looked sideways at her. She was staring at her feet, her long blonde hair plastered at odd angles against her face. She was breathing loudly, perhaps she had even run here in her anxiousness to find him. He realized suddenly that they were both soaked to the bone; her white t-shirt had turned sheer with the weight of the water; her overalls the only thing saving her modesty and barely concealing the womanly swoop of her swollen breasts beneath them. He felt his cheeks redden.

He still hadn't quite sorted out his feelings for Claire. Ever since he had helped her home from the Blue Bar, she seemed to captivate his thoughts more often. How many times had he caught himself day dreaming of her hand on his, or the way she had looked at him that night he helped her home? How many times had he debated whether or not she was wooing him, mentally weighing the significance of the bottles of wine she dropped off at the store or the turbojolts she roughly stuffed in his hands with the words, "It's supposed to rain tomorrow"? He returned to staring at his feet.

"Huh. You were worried about me." The words felt strange on his tongue; while everyone else's worrying gave him a slight twinge of annoyance, Claire's had sent a low swooping sensation in his belly, a feeling that only grew as she took a step towards him.

"And what's so wrong with that?" He nudged another rock with his shoe, not looking at her as she came to stand beside him.

"I don't know. Nothing I guess." He could feel his cheeks reddening as he glanced at her, her own cheeks blushing as raindrops dripped from her eyelashes. "I guess I shouldn't have run out just now... I just get frustrated sometimes. It seems like I've been waiting for so long to recover and it doesn't seem like I'm ever going to get back to normal. It's just annoying to have everyone always coddling me and treating me like I'm going to drop any second..."

She nudged him in the shoulder playfully, a small smile playing about her lips. "I don't think you're going to drop any second."

He shrugged, pressing back against her. "And I'm grateful for that, I guess... You work really hard Claire. Sometimes I see you out in your field ploughing away and I just... I just wish I could work like that again."

"Don't be stupid, Marlin." She was giving him a look she never had before, any trace of teasing vanishing from her eyes. "I've heard people talking around town. Everyone knows you're going to come back even stronger than before. They just don't want you sabotaging yourself in the process." She had grasped him around the elbow again, turning him towards her. "You're going to be fine."

Then she did something she had never done before: she looped her arms around his waist and settled herself firmly against him, the top of her head barely touching the underside of his chin. He didn't quite know what to do with himself; the feeling of her wet body against his was both igniting his cheeks and sending chills down his spine. Before he could raise his arms to hug her back she had pulled away, brushing her sopping bangs off her forehead.

"Now can you please stop whining and come back inside? It's awful out here." He allowed her to take him by the hand and drag him back to the farm, his heart beating wildly against his chest the whole way there.


	6. Winter Thanksgiving

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He yawned. He never felt like he got enough sleep in the winter; the inherent dampness of the season always left his lungs irritated and rattling with fluid, a fact that meant he never slept as well as he normally did. He threw a sweater over his shoulders, shuddering. Resigning himself to chills for the rest of the day he opened the front door, blinking rapidly at the early morning sun reflected off the snow.

He had opened the door hard against someone, sending them crashing against the ground with a grunt. He blink rapidly, his vision adjusting to the light. "Claire?"

The girl in question was looking up at him in a rather annoyed fashion, her cheeks reddening as she rubbed her backside. Beside her, he saw a discarded package wrapped in pink ribbon; he felt a low swooping sensation in his stomach as he remembered the date: the fourteenth.

"Uh, sorry." He could feel his cheeks going crimson as he watched her grab the package, extending his hand to help her up. "I didn't see you."

"Clearly." She was gnawing at the inside of her cheek, her face still red. And awkward silence settled between them as he watched her rub snow off her back. She was dressed differently than she normally was: a long pink sweater and jeans had replaced her usual overalls, and her blonde hair was hidden under a blue hat. The effect wasn't all together unpleasant. She continued to blush.

"So. Happy Thanksgiving." She seemed to pull herself together a bit, and extended the package she was holding towards him. Further inspection revealed a ridiculous heart covered box with chocolates inside. "I thought the box was a bit much, but it was all Karen had."

He coughed, his cheeks reddening. "No, it's uh, great. Sorry I didn't get you anything in the spring..." He trailed off, watching as her blush lessened.

"You didn't really know me then, so..."

"Yeah..." He cleared his throat.

She seemed to be a lot less embarrassed after having handed over the package, her cheeks returning to their normal shade. "Are you, um, doing anything right now? Want to go for a walk?" He couldn't think of a reason not to and shrugged, falling into an easy pace beside her as he slipped the heart shaped box into his pocket.

"I heard your cow gave birth." He said, more to avoid silence than anything.

She smiled crookedly. "Yeah. A few days ago. I'm going to be needing another barn soon. I wanted to buy a sheep this winter but now I don't have any room."

"Why would you want a sheep?"

She laughed. "What, do you have something against sheep?"

He shrugged. "Well, cows give milk everyday. Don't sheep only give wool once a week? Isn't that kind of a waste?"

"Yeah, but you can make stuff with wool."

He chuckled as they crossed the bridge and began to follow the curve of the path towards the spring. "Can't you also make stuff with milk too? Like cheese and yogurt?"

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were an expert on ranching, Marlin." She snorted, nudging him playfully with her hip.

They had reached the spring, somehow not frozen. It felt like a lot longer than a season ago that they had last been here together. Claire left his side to inspect the water, her long blond hair almost touching the surface as she crouched forward. He coughed awkwardly.

"So, what are you doing for Starry Night?"

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Probably nothing."

He coughed again, his hands sweating in his pockets. "Well, uh, Vesta's just making dinner, and she told me I could invite you, because you're pretty good friends with all of us." He swallowed roughly, his eyes fixed on his shoes. "So, I mean, if you're not doing anything you're more than welcome to come." He had been expecting an answer and received a splash followed by a few curse words he had never heard a woman say before, that sound alone making him jerk his head up so fast he hurt his neck.

He nearly doubled over in laughter at the sight of Claire emerging from the pond, thoroughly soaked. She stood there watching him laugh, looking both angry and cold. He thought his lungs would surely explode from a lack of oxygen. He couldn't remember laughing as freely as he was now, watching her hair already freezing in chunks as she ripped her hat off her head, wringing it out. "Shut. Up." Her cheeks looked about the only thing warm on her body as they burned red. "Marlin!" She hissed through chattering teeth, her blue eyes glaring daggers at him before she began to stomp away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He laughed, easily catching up to her as she marched away from him, her sweater beginning to freeze. "It's not funny." He said unconvincingly.

"Of course it's not funny!" She yelled, throwing her frozen hat at him. "You didn't even try to help me out, what happened to the over-protective Marlin I'm usually complaining about?"

"Weren't you the one who got mad at me for being so over-protective not too long ago?" He retaliated, still fighting his laughter. He had caught her there; she glared at him as she bit the inside of her cheek before she ripped the chocolates from his pocket and threw them into the snow.

"I've changed my mind, I'm not thankful for you anymore." She turned to go, her clothing now so frozen is was beginning to be difficult for her to move. He caught her around the elbow and pulled her towards him, still fighting laughter.

"It's your own fault for leaning over so far." He chuckled, bending down to pick up the frozen hat she had thrown at him, not bothering with the chocolates which were already lost in the snow. "Don't be mad at me, I'll buy you a hot chocolate at the bar."

She snatched the hat back from him and stomped onward, not bothering to look over her shoulder as she left him alone in the snow.


	7. Starry Night

**This chapter is rated M for a reason! READ AND REVIEW!**

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He had always been a man of pride, he supposed. He didn't like to wear his emotions on his sleeve. Perhaps he spent too much time in his own head, but he was never one to say his thoughts out loud. At least not until after hours of deliberation. He tapped his foot against the floor, their usual Starry Night dinner feeling strangely empty despite the fact that none of its usual guests were missing. He could feel the conversation washing over him, his mind wandering to Claire.

He hadn't seen her since they had had their argument at goddess pond. Nor had she bothered to show up to dinner. He supposed now, looking back, he could have been a bit nicer to her- he could only imagine how cold she had been, the freezing temperature probably not helping her damaged ego. Why had he laughed at her? If it had been any other girl he would have abandoned everything to pull them out, dry them off and keep them warm. Yet with Claire...

She didn't need his protecting. She was perfectly capable, hadn't she told him a thousand times, and in a lot of ways more capable than he was... Hadn't he watched her turn a whole farm around in less than a year? Hadn't he watched her work until she was blue in the face, all the while knowing that he would be sent to the hospital for doing half of what she was?

"Are you even listening, Marlin?"

He jumped, his eyes travelling to Celia, her lips pouting at him from across the table. Vesta let out a booming laugh. "Of course he's not. Where's Claire tonight?"

He could feel himself go hot around the collar. "Not here, I guess."

"That's too bad. I was looking forward to having dinner with her."

Celia stood from her seat, reaching to grab the empty plate in front of him. "Well I think it's fine just the three of us. You're having fun, aren't you?"

"Nonsense!" Vesta boomed before he could answer, slapping him so hard on the back that it forced a cough out of him. "If you want to be with her, be with her. Our feelings won't be hurt."

It had taken less than 20 minutes for him to walk to Claire's place, his heart beating rather uncomfortably in his chest the whole way. What if she was having dinner with another guy when he arrived? What if she didn't let him in at all? He could see the light on in her window, her house significantly larger now than it had been two seasons ago. Why would she even bother with the expansion if it housed just one? Unless... He had knocked before he could think of anything constructive to say, his throat tightening uncomfortably in his throat as he stood, waiting.

"Marlin?" It had swung open suddenly to reveal Claire, pyjama clad, with a shocked look on her face.

"Hi." They stood in silence for a few moments, both rather red in the face.

"What are you doing here?" She had crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide her shivering as he let all the cold air into her house.

He coughed slightly, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Well, uh, you didn't come to my Starry Night. And I haven't heard from you for a while... Just thought I'd come by and say hi." He coughed again. "Can I come in?"

She didn't say anything but moved aside to let him pass, shutting the door rather quickly as she did. The inside of her house was unrecognisable, the walls a nice yellow, all of the furniture plush and luxurious compared to the barren inside it had been the last time he was inside it. When he turned back she was still leaning against the door, and it was only then when he noticed how ill she looked. Her long blonde hair was distinctly ruffled, the circles under her eyes an unhealthy purple. As he watched she gave a great sniffle, still shivering. "You're sick?" Glancing around, he could see plenty of evidence: piles of tissues lay discarded on the coffee table, blankets layered thick on the bed.

She shrugged. "I'm getting better." She still hadn't left from her position by the door, watching him. "Why are you here, Marlin?"

He ignored her question, his eyebrows knitting together. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick? I could have come over and helped out a bit, you know."

She let out a sigh through her teeth. "Look, I'm fine. Can you please just leave?" She was staring at a spot somewhere above his left shoulder, her teeth gnawing at the inside of her cheek.

"What's up with you?" He asked, his feet rooted to the spot. "Why have you been avoiding me?"

Her cheeks flooded crimson. "I haven't been avoiding you, I've been sick."

"Why didn't you just tell me you were sick then?" Her cheeks turned a deeper red, her eyes suddenly bright.

"I just needed some space, Marlin!" Her voice cracked slightly as she said it, a lump coming to his throat as he realized she was on the verge of tears. He coughed awkwardly, risking a few steps forward as he struggled to find the right words to say.

"Is this about what happened at the spring? I'm sorry I, uh, didn't help you out... I just thought you could handle it yourself."

"Good! Because I can!" He voice had raised an octave, her cheeks still bright red, her bottom lip pouting slightly as she frowned at him. "I'm perfectly capable! I don't need you coming around and trying to protect me!" She seemed incapable of words, and merely stared at him for a moment, breathing heavily, before she rambled on. "I've been fine by myself my whole life. It's always been just me, never needed anyone... Perfectly capable..." She trailed off, her fingers knotting in the ends of her hair.

He was beginning to lose patience, both at her distance from him and her cold demeanor. "Why do you think I didn't help you out? Have you not been drilling it into my head how little you need me since we first met?"

"Exactly!" She hissed at him, her hair beginning to stand on end from the number of times she had run her hands through it. "And yet here you go, making me think of how nice it would be to be taken care of and how lovely it would be to have a man around, and yet when I need you, you don't follow through..." She suddenly blushed more fiercely, staring angrily at the ceiling. "I just needed some space. I remind myself that I was fine before you. And that I'll be fine after you."

He had never felt more confused in his life. He repeated her words over in his head, feeling the heat beginning to build around his collar... How lovely it would be to have a man around... I'll be fine after you...

His silence seemed to make her even angrier, hot tears spilling down her cheeks as her gaze remained even more fixed on the ceiling. His feet felt strangely rooted to the floor as his brain struggled to comprehend what she had just admitted. After what felt like hours she sighed angrily, opening to door behind her. "Just leave, Marlin. Forget I said anything."

His feet acted of their own accord, sending him towards the exit, his head all the while screaming for some sort of resistance. He had never seen her cry before; even through the tears dripping down her cheeks her eyes were still their usual shade of sapphire. He had stopped in front of her, trying to catch the gaze that refused to meet his, all the while knowing that if he left the cottage now he would probably never see her again. Taking the door knob in his hand, he summoned all his courage and shut out the icy world outside, leaving the two of them alone in the warmth.

Her eyes snapped up immediately, her icy gaze meeting his all to quickly. "Marlin." Her voice broke again, a stray tear falling from her lashes. He felt himself reach up, his face still blushing, a calloused finger meeting the soft skin of her cheek he had never felt before, brushing away any evidence of tears from her face. Before he allowed himself time to over think it, he leant in and kissed her.

He had surprised her, the action earning him a tiny squeak that he silenced almost immediately. It had been years since he kissed a girl- and as much as he hated to admit it, he was slightly rusty- yet Claire's lips against his felt as good as he had imagined during the many cold showers he had been taking the past few months. Instinctively, he moved his hand to knot in her hair, the other one snaking around her waist.

She surfaced for air before he did, sniffling slightly as she did so. "Marlin, you idiot." She sighed, pushing him back slightly. "Now you're going to get sick."

He nearly laughed. "You're kidding, Claire. Is that really what you're worried about right now?"

She shrugged, her cheeks flooding red once again. "Well, I don't know..." She trailed off. Somehow, he felt even more awkward now that he had before he kissed her. Clearing his throat, he watched her pick absentmindedly at a loose thread on her sleeve.

"I know you're used to being on your own." His hand closed around hers, forcing her to stop picking at her sleeve. "And I know there are a lot of reasons why you think it's easier to stay alone... I have plenty of reasons to think that way too." He coughed. "But I think it would be good for both of us to maybe learn to let ourselves be taken care of, every once in a while, at least."

She stared at his hand over hers for a long moment, whispering at last, "I just don't want you to leave. I like having you around, Marlin."

"I don't have any intentions of leaving..." He said very quietly, squeezing her hand in his.

She sent him a blazing look, the kind he had never seen on her face, or any woman's for that matter. Returning the pressure of his hand, her gaze dropped to the place they were intertwined between them, a small sigh escaping her lips. "You promise?"

He untangled his hand from hers, reaching up to caress her chin. He could barely think of anything to say, his head almost pounding from the swirl of thoughts tornado-ing through it. After what felt like hours, he cleared his throat. "I promise. As long as you want me, I'm here..." He watched her sapphire eyes drop their gaze to his lips, her cheeks beginning to redden. "I'm yours to command." He chuckled after a pause.

She returned the ferocity of his grip on his hand, biting the inside of her cheek as she glanced up at him through her lashes. "I want you to kiss me, Marlin."

He didn't need telling twice. Pulling her against him, he came to her lips like a parched man to water; her arms wrapping themselves around his neck and pulling herself achingly closer. He gripped the muscles of her lower back, his other hand knotting itself back into her golden hair, the low swooping sensation in his stomach nearly knocking him off his feet. She moaned as he bit against her lower lip, her hands clenching against the fabric of his shirt. Prodding the seal of her lips with his tongue, he caught the cool sigh that escaped her mouth into his, nearly suppressing a moan of his own. Sweeping a hand underneath the seam of the overlarge pyjama shirt she wore, he teased the soft skin of her stomach, his thumbs barely brave enough to graze of sides of her breasts.

"Kiss my neck." She commanded, breathing heavily as his lips obeyed and sucked at the sensitive skin of her jaw. He could feel her fingers picking at the buttons of his shirt as he began to stumble blindly towards the bed. Her backside collided with the table and Claire, not being one to miss an opportunity, hopped on it, her pyjama clad legs snaking around his waist as he jerked his shirt over his head.

Her cool hands pulled him towards her as she began sucking on the sensitive skin of his neck, the act along sending lightening through his veins. "Claire..." He breathed, his arms bracing on either side of her as she bit the fleshy joint of his shoulder. "Tell me to stop." He hated himself for saying it, and it took nearly all his willpower to push her back. He needed her to say it- it was the only way he could force himself to stop, if it was what he knew she wanted... It was hard not to pull her back in: she looked absolutely stunning, her hair perfectly tousled and her lips an enticing swollen pink.

She sent him a crooked smile, a kind of mirth in her eyes he hadn't seen since he brought her home from the blue bar. "No." She whispered, her hands reaching from his belt buckle.

"Claire." He couldn't remember ever sounding so desperate, his hands cupping hers and attempting to slow her process. "Claire, think about this... Just in case..." He couldn't think of how to put his thoughts into words- how to explain how traditional things were in mineral town, how to tell her they should wait... Until what? Marriage? How to explain that he had never, ever been with a woman... And to ask, maybe, how many men she had been with...

She had stopped picking at his buckle and instead reached up, gripping his chin lightly. She looked at him, long and hard, the same look she had given him when they first met; the kind that made him feel as if she was analysing him down to the core, her judgement on him absolute. Finally, she leant in and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, whispering against them. "I don't have a just in case." She leant back, her weight resting on her palms, reminding him of how much he had wanted her that night in the summer. "Do you have a just in case?"

His hands dropped to her thighs, the feeling of her muscles beneath the fabric sending a low swoop to his abdomen. Did he have a just in case? Did he have anyone else on the horizon... In the back of his mind, a half thought ventured to Celia, whose presence in his head was gone before it truly arrived, his thoughts instead arriving to the small sigh that came from Claire's mouth as he massaged up her legs, his thumbs achingly close to the heat between her legs. Could he truly imagine living life without the woman he was with now? Could he truly go a day without her? Hadn't the last few weeks already proven that to him? He leant forward, mirroring the chaste kiss she had planted on his lips moments earlier.

"I don't have a just in case."He whispered against her, earning him a fierce bit on the lip before she whispered back: "Undress me, Marlin."

The command sent as much fire through his veins as it did earlier that year; however he felt much more equipped for the job now than he did then. Bracing himself between her legs he leant forward, his fingers beginning to work on the first button between her breasts. He could hardly keep himself from kissing her; he placed a chaste kiss against her lips as the first button opened with a pop before he began to suck on the tender flesh on her neck. At last the shirt slid off her shoulders, revealing her swollen breasts to him. He pulled back from her neck, his palms sliding of their own accord to tease her nipples, an act that earned a moan that was quickly silenced by his lips against hers. Kissing her fiercely, he squeezed her breasts tenderly in his hands, his lips returning to the nape of her neck as he gently rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Bottoms." She breathed, her nails gently scratching the back of his neck. Sliding her off the table he yanked her bottoms off, a pair of pink panties all that separated her bare flesh from his hands. "Your turn." She sent him a crooked smile; her fingers tracing the muscled lines of his stomach and following the v shaped contours to his belt buckle, working so fast he barely had time to be aroused before she had yanked his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, his erection bared between them. She didn't pause before launching herself against him, her cool stomach pressing against his bare sex. "Bed." She murmured against his lips, guiding him across the room until they tumbled in a mass of limbs against the mattress, her bare legs swinging up and wrapping themselves around his waist.

He could barely think; he had never been this close to a naked woman before, let alone on top of one. He clenched his teeth, trying to suppress the moan about to escape his lips as she pulled back, her teeth gently nipping at the fleshy joint of his shoulder. His hands were acting of their own accord: with so much to feel they were barely staying still, running aggressively down her sides and only pausing momentarily to squeeze a lump of swollen flesh or flick a pursed nipple.

Her hands too, were beginning to roam; calloused fingers had gone from clawing at his back to tracing the lines of his abdomen, a small gasp emerging from his lips as she came to rest on his pulsating erection, her grip on his cock gentle as she began to massage his manhood. The low swooping sensation had migrated from his stomach to a point near the head of his penis, the feeling of her loose grip sliding up and down his shaft enough to make tiny stars erupt in front of his eyes. He let out a staggering breath, his lungs aching and making him realize he had been holding his breath for far too long. Beneath him, Claire let out a tinkling laugh, her fingers beginning to trace a swirling pattern along his shaft. "You alright there, Marlin?"

He was growing weary of her smug attitude, as if he needed a reminder that he was less experienced at this than she was. He was filled with the desire to please her, to hear her moan his name... Shifting his weight, he seized both her wrists in his, a small amount of satisfaction filling him as he pinned her arms above her head, earning him a tiny gasp from the woman below. Allowing his fingers to trail between her legs and rub against the sensitive flesh still hidden beneath her panties, he smirked down at her, his bangs barely brushing her quickly reddening cheeks. "You alright there, Claire?"

"Panties. Off." She gasped, arching her back to kiss him, the movement allowing him to grab the dainty waist band and pull it down her slender legs. He withdrew from Claire's kiss with a quick nip to her bottom lip, the soft breath of her sigh barely skimming his face before he dove down, already carving a trail of kisses down her neck and onto the swollen flesh of her breasts. He paused, taking care to trace the gentle curve of her skin with his tongue before suckling gently onto her nipples, the combined act of his tongue and teeth making her moan beneath him, her breathing beginning to quicken. He didn't linger long, though; his path of kisses continued down to her hips, and he finally released her bound wrists so as to only grab her knee and lift it, exposing the soaking folds between her legs.

Grabbing the curve of her waist with one hand, he placed a chaste kiss upon her clit, her hips rocking towards him nearly startlingly him. Following his instincts, he took the whole of it in his mouth, the swirling and sucking of his tongue causing her hips to buck beneath him. "Marlin..." It was what he had been waiting for, the moment she moaned his name the way no other woman had before; the kind of moan he had been waiting to hear since early summer. He emerged suddenly, returning to silence her with a hard kiss on the lips, his fingers plunging through her soaked folds and into her heated core. She gasped against his lips, her teeth scratching against his lower lip as he pumped in and out of her, her arms flying up to his shoulders and clawing into him. He felt her warm juices gush against him, and she pulled back suddenly, her blue eyes boring into him for a moment before she buried her face into his neck, her lips against his flesh silencing the sounds of her satisfaction.

He rolled on top of her, his member positioned against her sopping entrance. His lips met hers in a brief chaste kiss, trying to communicate, to silently ask for her permission... "Fuck me, Marlin." She whispered, her ragged breath coating his lips.

He didn't need asking twice; his shaft plunged deep inside of her at once, earning him a moan of pleasure from Claire as she quickly adjusted to his length. Her wet folds tightened around him as he began to pump in and out of her, his head dropping to the crook of her neck. Her legs wrapped around him, urging him on, her nails no doubt bringing blood from his back; all his senses felt somehow numbed, the only thing he was conscious of was the feeling of Claire around him and the sound of her moaning into his ear.

He had struck a particularly sensitive spot; her moans were beginning to turn into more of screams, her vagina tightening around him as her hips began to buckle once more beneath him. He felt a sudden gush of wetness, Claire's breathing erratic as she reached orgasm. He pulled back, her half-lidded sapphire eyes urging him on to completing, his hips pounding into her until he couldn't take it anymore, his orgasm gushing inside of her.

They were quiet after; the only sound in the cottage was the sound of their breathing, slowly returning to normal after their rampant love-making. Beside him, Claire was still red-faced, her blonde hair knotted around her and sweat running down to pool between her breasts. He reached out to her; instinctively pulling a blanket over her as he reached for her hand. "That was..." He began, but stopped short, not knowing how to finish.

She laughed her tinkling laugh. "Yeah." She returned the pressure of his grip, neither of them knowing what to say.

He didn't know what would happen next, nor what exactly he was to the woman next to him. He did, however, know that the woman beside him was someone he could see being in his life for a while; he knew that he liked the way she made love, the way she blushed, and the way she laughed at him when he was being stupid. And whether he ordered the blue feather this second or not at all, he was confident that he would have a lot of time to figure it out.

After all, it was just their first year.


End file.
